The Glade
by Sephone
Summary: Modern Retelling. When Christine is shown a glade that seems all her own she is thrilled. When she hears an angelic voice everytime she comes alone she's filled with a need to continue to hear that voice, even when the voice takes her away from everything
1. Prologue: Madeleine

Disclaimer: Susan Kay owns Madeleine and Marie, Gaston Leroux own practically everythings else as does ALW

Authors Notes: A moderen retelling phic, I tried to make it as original as I could. This first chapter is really just to introduce how Erik was born and raised, that and I'm reading the Kay novel right now so I wanted to incorporate Madeleine. The title might change over the course of the story but for now it's named after a place that will come into play in the next chapter.

* * *

**The Glade**

_Prologue:_

I had opted for a home birth rather then have the hassle of being rushed off to the hospital, and looking back on it I am forever grateful for my choice. I remember the night he was born all too clearly.

I lay in a state of half awareness, sweat trickled down my brow and onto my slightly parted lips, and the midwife stood hovering by my legs. My dear friend Marie was there as well, holding my hand and whispering encouragements that I didn't listen to. I remember laying there and wishing that it had been my Charles holding my hand instead of Marie but Charles was dead and I was alone.

"I can see the head," The midwife sputtered and I pushed again, I brought my head down hard on the pillows propping it up in pain. I prepared for yet another push and with all my power I did so and then the eerie silence filled the room.

Marie had left my side to see what was the matter with the midwife was and to find the cause for the sudden silence while I laid my head down to rest. I was nearly asleep when I heard her gasp and my eyes shot open. What was the matter? I met Marie's eyes and took in her weak smile. It looked like she was trying to sustain a scream.

I was worried now; Marie had never given me that look before in all the time I knew her. What was wrong? Was the child dead? That theory was quickly dashed when I saw a small hand grab the air around it in its small fist.

"Well?" I asked and watched as the midwife and Marie exchanged glances. The midwife quickly wrapped the child in a blanket and walked over to my bedside. Marie stayed rooted to her spot, watching anxiously for my reaction.

The baby was quickly placed into my waiting arms and I looked upon the last connection to my dear Charles.

What I saw made me want to retch. What I held was no baby but a monster; a freak. I held it away from me in disgust and seeing this Marie rushed forward and took the thing from my hands, as if she were afraid I'd drop it in fear.

What made matters worse were that while I stared down into the eyes of my son he did not cry. No, instead he just stared at me with eyes furrowed as if he knew about my instant dislike of him.

After Marie placed him silently into his crib she thanked the midwife, who still looked both bewildered and terrified, and helped her out the door. When she returned nothing really happened. We stood looking at each other, daring the other to speak first, all the while my son waved his hands around in the air. It was Marie who broke the silence first.

"What are you going to name him, Madeleine?" The thought hadn't crossed my mind at all, in fact if given the choice I didn't even want to have to look at him again.

"I don't know and rightly I don't care!" I began unsteadily, the effects of several hours of labor still upon me. Marie came to sit beside me on the bed, her ever gentle and understanding air suffocating me.

"Madeleine you don't mean that. I know he's… different but he still deserves a name." I burst out in dry laughter at her comment.

"Different, Marie? Oh no, that 'thing' is more then different! It isn't human. You saw it with your own eyes, how his skin is stretched, eyes sunken and he has no nose!" My voice was controlled but I was on the verge of hysterics. I didn't understand it, how could I have created this creature out of the love I shared with my dear Charles? Our love had been so beautiful and this child was so malformed.

I felt Marie's hand on my brow and she brushed errant strands of hair away from my face.

"Still he deserves a name," She said slowly. I looked at her with narrowed eyes; her so plain and I so beautiful, one would have never guessed we were best friends.

"If you're so intent on it why not you name it Marie, and while you're at it you can take it as your own son for all I care!" I hissed venomously, sick of her caring attitude towards him. Standing Marie moved to the boy and lifted him back out of the crib and into her arms. I noticed from my spot how she had subtlety covered his face with the blanket and I grinned triumphantly.

"Very well I'll name him, but I won't take him away from you," She glanced over her shoulder at me and I rolled my eyes. Turning back to the disfigured boy she undid the cover of the blanket over his face and turned her back to me. I realized then that the only reason she'd cover his face in the first place was for my sake since I could have seen him when she lifted him out of the crib.

"A name is what you want isn't it?" She began, staring slightly above his head but still at him. I could tell she was uncomfortable but she dared not show it. "How do you like Charles, after your father hm?" I shot from my position on the bed and turned on her.

"Don't you dare name him that or I shall never speak to you again!" Marie looked nonchalant at my threat.

"If you don't like my choice Madeleine, then perhaps you should name him yourself." And she held him out to me to take. I cringed as I came to be completely exposed to the hideousness that was his face. I cowardly covered my face with my hands and shook my head vigorously.

"No, no, you name him Marie, I can't!" I pleaded desperately. She sighed and nodded. Bringing him back to her she stared at the black fuzz of hair that showed on his bald head.

"How about the name Erik, I think it suits him, what do you think Madeleine?" She turned her head to me and where I still had my hands covering my face. Peeking through my slender fingers I sighed.

"Whatever," Marie stood, knowing that was the best she was going to get out of me, and for the last time placed the babe in his crib. Walking to the door she grabbed her coat which she had placed on the back of the chair of my vanity and put it on. I watched from my spot on the bed as she did this.

"I'll come back tomorrow Madeleine. You should feed Erik before you go to sleep, I'm guessing he'd be hungry," She moved to the door of my bedroom and opened it. Smiling weakly she waved and left, leaving me alone with my child.

The first thing I did was change into another nightgown and tightly wrapped my night robe around me; only after I had done this did I even give the boy a thought. Taking a step towards the crib I peered in and looked at the form nestled in. Covering his face first, I took Erik into my hands and finally I heard him. As I held him he giggled at the warmth of me I suppose, but his voice! I felt myself being lured by that voice and I brought him closer to me. As I did so the material over his face shifted revealing what it hid. I was instantly shaken from my spell and reality hit me.

I dropped him and ran away, unaware of where exactly I was running to. Before I knew it I was backed against the wall near the window. As I sank to the floor I heard the distant sound of the cars on the streets. I believe I fell asleep in that spot, huddled in the corner my hands buried in my knees. All the while Erik continued gripping the air as if expecting to take hold of something solid and didn't cry.

When I woke up the next morning I heated some milk and fed it to Erik. Once he had his take of it I left him in his crib and escaped to the room that had once been my Charles study. Since his death I had left it untouched except for the basket I had placed in there. I had taken up the odd habit of sewing to pass the time till the birth and now looking at it I knew what had to be made.

For the rest of the day I sewed together a mask, and when I finished it I presented it to Erik as my first gift to him. At least now I could perhaps bare to look at him.

Over the course of the next few days I realized I would have to move. It was only a matter of time before my neighbors would expect to see the newborn and congratulate me. So with Marie's help I moved into a reasonably sized house in the country. It was there that I raised my son and became I sort of recluse.

The little amount of people who lived around us didn't bother us and the only guest we ever really received was Marie, who would come every so often from the city.

So we lived and as Erik grew I began to fear my son even more, for he was a genius if ever I'd seen one. He mastered everything. From the music I would play, to the lessons both Marie and I would teach him. He listened and learned with growing fascination and a cold indifference.

I never let him out of the house for fear he would be seen because I didn't know how the rest of the world would react to him and his face. When I think of that I remember when he first saw his face, since I had always forced him to wear his mask.

He was being troublesome and I was tired and quick to become angry. As the fight ensued between us I lashed out and dragged him to my room, which within held the only mirror in the house. I threw him before it and took off the mask.

I don't like thinking about it, the sound of his screams and the blood that flew freely from the cuts he inflicted upon himself as he bashed his fists against that mirror. He had nightmares about his face and I did nothing.

He grew up, as all children do and I awoke one day to find him gone.


	2. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own anything, the characters belong to Gaston Leroux and ALW

Author Notes: So here's chapter1 and it introduces Christine and Meg and even Mme. Giry who is Mrs. Giry... Anyway also the name of the story comes into play here as well.

* * *

**The Glade**

_Chapter 1:_

"Miss. Daae are you alright?" Was I alright? Could I ever be alright after this day I wonder? Despite my thoughts I nodded my head between sniffs but I knew I was lying and so did the man before me. With a heavy sigh he left me, all I heard was the click of the door.

After a couple of minutes had passed I heard that same door open again. I since had composed myself but with the pressure of someone's hand on my shoulder I felt the thin walls begin to crumble.

"Christine, what happened?" It was Meg, my best and closest friend. I faced her and she gasped as she took in my rosy face.

"It's… it's my dad Meg, he's…" I couldn't finish my sentence and right there in the principal's office I broke down. Sobbing uncontrollably into her shoulder Meg rubbed my back reassuringly.

"Shh, it's okay Christine," She whispered but it wasn't okay and she knew it. Meg knew of my relationship with my father, how close we had been to one another. How I couldn't live without him there to encourage me.

The principal reentered her office and saw us like that and I can still remember the look she gave me. It was full of pity. I didn't care though at the moment, for now I was just a lost little girl without her father. I was an orphan now, all alone in the world and I hated the feeling.

"Miss. Giry, why don't you take Miss. Daae home?" The principal suggested and Meg agreed with her. As we walked through the hallways of the school I felt as if everyone were staring at me. Me, who was always so happy, me, who never cried yet here I was sobbing into my friends shoulder.

When we did reach my small apartment, which I had shared with my dad, the first thing I did was go to the small table we had that was littered with photos of the two of us. I gazed lovingly at my fathers charming smile and felt my heart break. Lifting one such photo I caressed the smooth glass, all the while Meg stood watching me from behind. I held the frame close to my heart and felt the tears threaten to fall once more.

Overcome with grief and I don't know what else I gripped the edge of the frame and flung it at the wall. I barely heard Meg's yelp over my own tears as I sunk to the floor.

"Why…" I whispered. Meg leaned forward, straining to hear me. "Why?" I yelled causing her to jump.

"Christine," She said.

"Why did he have to leave me Meg?" I looked at her and was instantly flooded with shame. The look on my friends face broke me even more then I already was. She looked scared of me and I felt so heartless.

She too had gone through the same thing except she hadn't even gotten to know her dad like I had known mine. I stood and wiped my face with my sleeve.

"I'm sorry Meg. I'm being selfish," She stepped towards me and wrapped her arms around my shoulders.

"It's okay to be selfish a bit Christine," She began, and then looking right into my eyes she asked. "Would you like to stay at my house for a bit? I'm sure my mom wouldn't mind knowing the circumstances."

I nodded and hiccupped from the tears. Taking my shoulders she pulled away and nodded, a silly grin plastered on her lips.

"Great! And you know we can spend the whole night annoying her silly!" I chuckled, if anything Meg loved bugging her mother. She smiled lovingly.

"It's good to hear you laugh, Christine." I agreed full-heartedly with her statement.

After that Meg stayed true to her word. I stayed at the Giry's for a couple weeks until the funeral passed and the will had been read. I knew my father hadn't been the wealthiest of men and wasn't surprised when the will didn't include a lot of money. Really the only thing of value that he left to me was his violin, which I treasured endlessly but still there was the problem of money.

I knew there was no way in this world that I'd be able to pay the rent on the apartment so with much hesitation I moved out and took Mrs. Giry up on her offer to stay with them till I was steady enough to live on my own.

This was the way the rest of the year passed and soon it was summer and then my senior year of High School would begin.

* * *

"Meg Giry, wait up!" I yelled between hurried breaths as I rushed to follow my blonde friend as she sped down the busy street, pausing only to push my bag up my shoulder more. The only thing I could hear from her though was light bubbly laughter.

It had been a month since my father had died leaving me alone in the world and I was still living with the Giry's, who I had come to respect so much more for their hospitality. When I had shown up with my bags at Mrs. Giry front step the first thing she did was embrace me and we stayed like that for a while in silent understanding.

It felt so comforting to have a parental-like person there to support me again that I gave in to the hug. And now here I was, and besides the mourning black I still wore, one would never have guessed I had gone through troubling times these past months.

I finally caught up to Meg and stopped to catch my breath and to also take in our surroundings. We were in a glade of sorts and wild flowers were blooming, untouched by mankind. Looking around I spotted a floor of rocks jutting out from the side of a cliff and curious I headed toward it first.

Meg noticed where my attention was and ran ahead of me. Jumping up onto the rocks she spread her arms out wide.

"Ta Da! So what do you think?" I looked at her nonplussed. Yes the place was beautiful indeed but I wasn't so sure about why she had brought me here. Guessing my confusion Meg laughed again.

"Christine, it's your own stage to perform!" She announced as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. It took a couple of minutes for the words to sink into my brain but when they did it was like the light bulb had just turned on in my head. It was a well known fact that I secretly wanted to become a renowned singer on the stage but I was too shy and quiet to even try out for a high school play.

"Meg…" I began cautiously, though the bubbly girl instead just grabbed my arm and pulled me up to where she stood then jumped down herself.

"Sing Christine, it's really refreshing!" I stared at her as if she was crazy, and really I was beginning to think she was, crazy that is.

"What do you mean sing?" I muttered and Meg sighed.

"You know, sing. Or do I have to go all Maria von Trapp on you and teach you the meaning of singing?" I laughed at the idea of Meg singing "Do Re Mi" from the Sound of Music, or even more ridiculous, the idea of Meg being in the convent.

"Ah you mean that kind of singing," I said lightly, dropping my bag on the stone stage, though the sarcasm dripped from my tongue.

"Yes that kind of singing." Meg replied, getting a bit annoyed with the whole scenario. Looking about my 'stage' I found the center and puffed myself up like a bird. Meg giggled at my actions and seated herself on the lush foliage as if she really were sitting in a grand theatre.

"Well then, does the audience have any suggestions as to what I should sing?" I asked in a haughty manner. Meg shrugged from her spot.

"Just sing already!" She yelled, throwing blades of grass at me, which I skillfully dodged.

"Ok, ok," I yelled back, giving in. I stood there on the stage, ignoring Meg's obvious yawns, thinking of what to sing. In the back of my mind I remembered a Swedish folk song which my father had taught me when I was little. I remember him telling me that his grandfather had taught him it and that now he was going to teach me it.

I remembered his voice and I couldn't help but smile.

"_The stars they shine so brightly, all in the sky above. Oh, I shall never marry the lad I dearly love."_I sang remembering the English lyrics to the song or at least the rough translation my father had given me.

"_'Twas him my heart had chosen; I could not say him nay. He promised to be faithful until my dying day."_I closed my eyes and rejoiced in the feeling of the song, of the poor woman who sung it.

"_But then from me he parted, and then another came. Unwillingly I wed him, and Sorrow is his name." _I took in a breath of the fresh air and opened my eyes to regard Meg's reaction. She looked stupefied and I felt my heart drop.

"Was it that bad?" I asked her and at the sound of my voice she was snapped out of her stupor and she cocked her head to the side.

"No not at all, your voice is really lovely Christine, it's just…" She trailed off looking for the right words. I felt nervous as I waited for her critique.

"Well?" I asked unable to stop myself. She broke out into a smile at my nervousness and I stuck out my tongue childishly.

"It was kinda depressing," She finally said and I laughed. Was that all? Meg looked taken aback as I kept on laughing. Standing she stalked off in a huff. I chased after her, jumping off the stage.

"Meg, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to make you mad." She tossed me a look from over her shoulder; her blonde hair covered her eyes.

"Next time, don't ask for my opinion if you're just going to laugh at me afterwards," I now felt bad for laughing even though I really had no idea why I had laughed in the first place.

"I'm sorry Meg, do you forgive me?" She stopped in her tracks and I bumped into her and stumbled backwards. Giving me an even stare she studied my eyes for any truth in my statement. Then before I knew it her hand whipped out and tugged at some of my ebony hair. I winced at the light pain even though I knew I deserved it. Rubbing my head where she had pulled I pouted and she looked triumphant at the sight of that said pout.

"Then don't do it again, you hear?" I nodded meekly and we stared at each other before bursting out in laughter at our antics. "Come on we should be getting back to the house soon."

I was about to follow her out of the small forest, if one could call it that, but then realized that something was missing from the picture.

"I forgot my bag back in the glade; I'll be right back okay?" With her reassurance that she'd wait right where she was I quickly ran back. Sighing in relief when I saw that the bag was right where I'd left it, I grabbed it and placed it back on my shoulder. As I stood there alone and the wind sighing, I couldn't help but feel the tiniest bit anxious. Shrugging the feeling off and blaming it on Meg I walked back to where I knew she'd be waiting for me.

Mrs. Giry was a bit upset with us for returning so late but when Meg told her that she'd finally taken me to my 'stage' her strict mother relaxed ever so slightly. It was only when I was dressed for sleep and sitting on my bed in the room I shared with Meg did I notice that my student card for school was missing. Cursing my luck, I fell asleep with the knowledge that I'd have to deal with the hassle of getting a new one at the start of the new school year.

* * *

Author Notes: The song I used is called"Allt under himmelens fäste", if anyone's interested. I have the next chapter ready I just want to see how the story goes over with everyone so far. Meaning if you want to read more please review. 


	3. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own anything!

Author Notes: So here's chapter 2 for you! First off I want to thank my firsttwo reviewers LazyCat& kristinekat13forreviewing and for putting the story on their favorites already! You guys are so nice! Now back to the story, I'm still writing the next chapter so please be patient with me okay? Thanks!

* * *

**The Glade**

_Chapter 2:_

After that first time I kept on coming back to the glade. Perhaps it was because I secretly wished that if I kept on coming back I'd eventually find my missing student card and not have to pay for a new one, or it was like Meg had said.

She had said that it was my own stage and it truly felt like that. Never was there anyone else there beside myself and sometimes Meg and it just felt so secluded from the rest of the world.

So I kept on coming back, sometimes by myself, sometimes with Meg, sometimes I would sing and sometimes I just came to think. The main thing was I did come and I like to think I spent most my summer there.

When I was there though, it was like magic, like a little piece of heaven on earth. The wind would sing through the branches and the sun always seemed to shine. Even on dreary days it was still beautiful.

But despite this all, I couldn't fight back the growing sensation that I was being watched. When I felt this I liked to think that perhaps it was the spirit of the glade or perhaps the place really was a piece of heaven and it was an angel. I always had had a wild imagination after all.

Even after imagining all that I still didn't quite believe it because why would a spirit or an angel's stare feel so cold?

I remembered one particular day when the feeling of being stared at was stronger then before really was catching up to me. So much that I felt the need to say. "Who's there?"

Of course no one responded and I blamed it on my mind playing tricks on me. Whenever I did call out though I realized that the feeling would go away in a flash, leaving me feeling naked.

One day when I was with Meg in my glade I was still feeling like I was being watched. Turning to her I asked the question that was plaguing my mind.

"Meg," I began to get her attention. She looked up from the book she was reading. "Do you feel something?" At her confused look, I continued.

"Like we're being watched by something," I watched as her gentile expression dropped and she became guarded.

"No I don't, do you?" I shrugged; perhaps it really was my imagination. I told her that and she smiled.

"Your imagination will be the death of you Christine!" I stuck my tongue out at her and we giggled together. Another thing about the glade was that it seemed to make anyone act young again.

Propping my head on my knees I began to hum a light tune and saw from the corner of my eye, Meg bob her head to the rhythm as she flipped the pages of her book. Then the peaceful scene was broken by my sudden need to stand.

"I'm bored!" I announced and Meg raised a delicate eye brow at me.

"Really, now why is that?" I shrugged. I didn't know why I was bored. Walking to where Meg sat I stood behind her. Waiting till she got frustrated I scrutinized my glade with a wary eye.

Everything was the same I thought. The trees, the wild flowers, the stone stage, and the pair of glowing yellow eyes. I paused and felt the color drain from my face.

"Meg…" I whispered but upon second glance they were gone. I blinked and looked down to find Meg staring at me with worry written all over her face. A nervous laugh escaped me.

"It's nothing…let's go," And we did. I trailed behind her as we weaved in and out of the surrounding trees. I couldn't get the image of those eyes out of my mind. They had seemed too deeply buried into the vastness of the trees but yet I could see them so clearly.

* * *

I didn't return to the glade after that fateful day, at least not for a while and before I knew it school had started again and I did have to buy another student card.

As I walked through the halls, sat through my classes, I felt as if everyone was walking on eggshells around me. Thinking about it they had been like this when I had returned to school after the funeral as well.

Why was it that the one time I took off the mask I wore of supreme optimism wasall it wouldtake for everyone I knew to think I was on the edge?

I pondered this as I sat in homeroom; idly I tapped my pencil on my desk.

"Students I'd like to introduce you to a new student. His name is Raoul Chagny and he'll be here with us for the rest of the year." My head snapped up at the sound of the name. Looking at the new guy I was sure I knew him and it appeared as if he recognized me as well.

I soon was on the receiving end of every glare from the female race as Raoul continued to stare openly at me. And while I was being glared at by all the girls, all the guys glared at Raoul who was blissfully unaware of the attention he was getting.

Sliding into the seat behind me he leaned against the chair and waited for class to begin. It was only after half the class was over did he finally speak.

"I know you," I turned to face him. So he didn't remember me? It was reasonable I guess, I mean I was shocked to find I still remembered him even.

"Really now? Well that's all nice and good but this isn't really the time for chitchat." I gaped openly and quickly covered my mouth with my hands. At his chuckle I felt my face go red and I quickly turned back to face the front of the class.

"I take it you're usually not so outgoing?" He whisper into my ear. I shook my head and my sudden nervousness seemed to cause him even more amusement.

Class ended without any more noise coming from Raoul and as I stood, I drew in a breath praying he wouldn't follow. Apparently god didn't like me today.

"So, as I was saying I know you. What's your name?" I told him my name in a mumble. "What was that?"

"I said, my names Christine Daae," I spat out between gritted teeth. He seemed to think about it for a while and I took this chance to get away. Unluckily for me he was a quick walker.

"The name sounds familiar but I can't place it." Raoul pushed on. I was quickly getting peeved by his constant questions and finally gave in.

"We met at a county fair once. I… I was singing and my dad was playing the violin," There I had said it; something I hadn't brought up in what seemed like forever. After all I didn't really like to be reminded that I had once sung at a fair when my father and I were tight for cash. Though I believe it was worth it to see his reaction.

"Christine! Wow I can't believe it's you. You've," and here he paused to look me up and down. "Grown up if anything," I blushed.

"And you, Raoul, have become very, very forward." He laughed a deep throaty laugh. After a few moments of silence he spoke again.

"Wow, I still can't believe it's you," I chuckled quietly to myself.

"It reels the mind," I said sarcastically and Raoul caught onto my sarcasm.

"You're a lot more sarcastic then I remember though." I sighed; I'd admit that since the death of my father the sarcasm was something that came with the whole ordeal.

"Christine, wait up!" Both Raoul and I spun around to see a bobbing head of short blonde hair heading our way. Stopping mere inches in front of us I gestured to my friend.

"Raoul this is Meg Giry, my best friend. Meg this is Raoul Chagny, a childhood friend." Meg gave him little to no attention which I noticed shocked him; instead she drew out a piece of paper and handed it to me.

"This year, you my friend are auditioning for the play," I looked down and saw that indeed it was a flyer from the school drama club. I gave Meg an even stare but she was completely oblivious to it. It was actually Raoul that spoke first.

"You still sing?" I nodded somewhat. Yes I did still sing but I didn't like to in public and Meg knew that. I repeated this to Raoul. "Well wouldn't this be a good way to get over that fear?"

"Exactly my idea," As she finished this, it was like Meg actually saw Raoul for the first time. Suddenly she took a complete 180 on her personality and before my very eyes she became a shy, stuttering girl. We both laughed at her expanse which caused her to blush even more.

Raoul and I took the rest of the day after that to get caught up in the others life. As it turned out Raoul was still the boyishly charming kid I remembered him to be and he was still filthy rich. And apparently I still seemed to be the same naïve kid Raoul remembered as well besides the sarcasm. Surprisingly or not it soon seemed as if no time had come between us at all and we were the best of friends again. Even Meg came around and stopped stuttering every other minute. Despite that I couldn't help but smile whenever he was around.

"So," He said one day, a couple months after school had started, as he drove Meg and I home. He cast a glance at Meg and with a slow realization she left with a huff. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. I think I knew where this was going and I wasn't sure if I wanted it. "Christine, I was thinking," I cut him off by opening the door and stepping out. Looking back at him I smiled weakly.

"Raoul, it's not that I don't, you know, but…" I trailed off when I saw the small glint of hurt in his eyes. I sat back down and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Not now okay, ask me later and I'm sure I'll say yes, okay?"

He nodded dejectedly and I felt so guilty about it. It wasn't that I didn't like him; in fact, he probably was the only guy I had 'liked' liked in a long time. But I felt not ready to date yet or get into anything serious right now and I hoped he understood that.

Walking away from the car I stood in the driveway and waved as he disappeared down the street. Feeling miserable myself I walked into the house and dropped my bag with Meg's. Leaning on the door so as to prolong Meg's questioning, I let out a big sigh.

Realizing that I wasn't really at all ready for Meg's gossiping side, I upped and picked up my bag and headed to a spot I hadn't been to in ages.

The glade was the same as always, as if I hadn't ever left it at all. Lying down on the grass I spread my arms out wide and just breathed in the fresh air. Everything was better here that was for certain.

My eyelids began to droop as the wind through the branches sang a haunting melody. I was almost asleep when like a bucket of water had been splashed in my face, I sat up. The melody wasn't the wind. It sounded too human but it didn't sound human, it sounded. I listened intently and found myself lured by the song.

It sounded angelic, heavenly.

High on this melody I stood and moved trance-like to the stage. Once there I swayed to the rhythm and opened my mouth. No sound came out but I wanted to sing and I don't know why I didn't.

Looking around I searched for the source of the angelic voice but wherever I looked it seemed as if it too were coming from that direction. I spun around, head whipping around on my neck, until I was dizzy and fell to the ground.

"Who's there?" I managed to whisper.

The song stopped and I rushed to my feet and searched on frantically.

"No, don't go, please!" I pleaded but the voice did not return and I felt a terrible longing in my chest.


	4. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own anything

* * *

**The Glade**

_Chapter 3:_

I soon realized that if I ever wanted to hear that voice again I would have to come alone to the glade and it seemed to prefer evening visits over the ones in the daytime. As I wondered the empty streets at night I gave no thought of my safety, all I wanted was to hear that voice again. It was like a drug I was addicted to and I couldn't get enough of.

Things have become awfully routine-like, I thought one day as I walked the empty halls of the school. I had just finished rehearsal for the school play, which I did finally try out for due to Meg's and Raoul's constant 'subtle' hints, which I had a small role in. Not only was it routine but it was so normal, if anything.

I knew that if it weren't for the voice that sang to me, I would've died of boredom. I had become so dependent on hearing the voice that I surprised even myself half the time.

"Christine!"

When I went to the glade, I never gave a thought towards my safety; I just had to get there. But now as I thought about it, what did I know of the voice beside it being so heavenly? Heavenly and yet mournfully so, I found I liked the odd combination.

"Christine!"

Jogged from my thoughts I looked to see Meg standing beside me, probably the dance team had finished practice, and I felt my face heat up.

"What is it?" I managed to spit out, my tongue was tied. Meg studied me before answering.

"You seem distracted. Is this because of where you go every night?" My jaw dropped but I quickly recovered. Head high I quickened my pace.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," I said but even I could hear the trembling in my voice.

"Yes you do, Christine!" A pause. "Fine, if you won't tell me I'll just get Raoul to help me get it out of you." And she turned on her heel and began to walk off. At the sound of Raoul's name I froze. She couldn't tell him! He wouldn't understand, no not at all!

Raoul was one of my best friends, and perhaps we both felt a bit more for each other but that didn't hide the fact that he was a very practical person. I remembered how he always laughed at my stories of lore, just thinking about how he'd react if I told him I heard a heavenly voice singing to me made my head spin.

Running to catch up with her, I felt my hand gently graze her arm and I took hold of it. Ignoring her outcry I gripped tightly at the arm I held. Looking at me she backed away slightly.

"Please Meg, I'll speak just don't tell Raoul please!" I begged, the grip I had on her arm tightening. Meg looked at her arm and then to me, I could see a mixture of fear and worry stirring in them.

"I won't tell Raoul, Christine, so can you please let go of me?" I did as was asked and dropped my head in shame. Where my hands had been was a red mark.

"I'm really worried Christine… I'd like to talk today if that's okay?" I nodded and Meg smiled brightly though I could see the smile was strained.

We headed out of the school and before I knew it we were seated at one of the many tables at Starbucks. Meg was slowly sipping her coffee but I had declined the drink, I was already jumpy enough as it was.

"Meg nothing is wrong with me," There, any conversation there was going to be between uswas out in the open now; it was in Meg's corner now.

"Then why have you been acting so distracted lately?" She asked and took another sip.

"Rehearsal?" I offered lamely, she didn't believe it. I sighed, wishing that I had gotten myself a drink; it would have been nice to have something in my hands. I opted to play with a strand of my hair instead. How could I explain this to her?

"I've been to the Glade a lot-"

"I know that Christine!" Meg interrupted; I glared at her albeit weakly.

"Shall I continue?" She nodded sheepishly.

"When I'm there Meg, it's like magic! I don't know how to explain it, does that sound weird."

Silence, I guessed that meant yes.

"It's all mine practically, I mean I've never seen any traces of other people having been there ever!" Meg watched me from under almost closed eyes. With much reluctance, I noticed, she placed the cup down.

"It's just a small clearing in a forest Christine," I rejected the hand she pressed across the table.

"No it isn't, Meg!" I grabbed my jacket roughly. "I knew you wouldn't understand!" Both of us were standing, Meg was reaching out to me and I stepped further away. I didn't care about the stares we were receiving at all.

"Remember you can't tell Raoul," With that I walked out of the building in a confused and mild rage. Not looking back I turned a corner and headed in a familiar direction.

As I neared the edge of the forest I suddenly felt something brush past me. It was like a cold northern wind, I wasn't used to such cold. Tugging my jacket closer I continued walking.

* * *

"Something's wrong," Raoul said as we waited for the last period of the day to come to an end. I didn't meet his eyes and instead concentrated more so on the work in front of me.

"Why do you say that?" I asked trying to hide the caution in my voice. Since that day atStarbucks, Meg and I hadn't spoken to one another and it felt so lonesome to go days without talking to her. The worse part of our argument was that she now avoided me like the plague when both of us were at the house, and we shared a room!

"I haven't seen Meg lately, that's all," His voice trailed off in disappointment that he didn't get a reaction out of me.

"We got into a fight." I stated bluntly and I could hear his chair scratching forward. I could just imagine that he had his head rested on his arms, staring at the back of my head with a blank expression.

"But you two never fight," He muttered, to himself or me I couldn't tell. I brushed back a loose strand of hair.

"Everyone fights sometimes Raoul. I bet even we will at some point or another," Why wouldn't he just stop asking so many questions?

"Well, forgive each other soon, it's freaking me out." I laughed, how common of Raoul to think of himself. Thankfully before I could respond to that the bell finally rang and I let out a sigh of relief. Blindly grabbing my books and stuffing them into my bag I got up from my seat, Raoul's voice caught me as I was walking out the door.

"Christine, you ready for that date yet?" I froze in the middle of the doorframe. People around us began to whisper and I knew the news would be known throughout the entire school by the time I got to my locker.

I glanced at him from over my shoulder. Ever since he had originally asked me that same question we had made a sort of game out of it. He would always ask me if I were ready yet and I would always say the same thing in reply.

"Maybe Raoul," And we left it at that. Bag sitting on my shoulder I took the left hallway while he took the right, a small secretive smile was on my lips.

I had been to my locker and as I guessed everywhere people around me were whispering and looking at me. Not that it really bothered me, I was used to it and one had to if they wanted to be Raoul Chagny's friend in the first place.

Rounding the corner I began to walk in the direction of the south exit when something caught my attention. Voices, two rather familiar voices at that as well. Walking as quietly as I could I neared the next corner and leaned against the lockers. I knew now that one of the voices was Raoul's but I hadn't heard the other one yet.

"She says you had a fight?" My pulse quickened, just by hearing the question I knew who he was talking to, Meg.

"We did," Meg's voice was low and I could barely hear her or the Meg that I had known for so long.

"What of?" Raoul pushed, his stubbornness showing its true colors.

"She's been acting weird lately, really you must have noticed it Raoul. I was worried about her so I asked if we could talk andwe did." Her voice faded for a moment and I had this weird sensation that I wouldn't like what she had to say next. "She was talking like it was heaven or something, that it was all hers, Raoul she's scaring me." It felt like something was clamping onto my heart as I heard those words. Guilt and shame had just become my new best friends and I wondered through my obsession with the voice did I really ignore how it was affecting my closest friend?

"What are you talking about Meg? It sounds like riddles or something. What's wrong with Christine?" So many questions, why did Raoul always ask so many questions! I could feel Meg's resolve crumble even before she said those words.

"That glade, I wish I had never taken her to it!" I knew she was going to say that even before she did but I didn't expect it to hurt as much as it did. The one thing I had asked her not to do! My head began to spin and everything became dizzy. All I could hear was those words repeated in my head over and over and over.

I took a step away from the locker I was leaning on and one toward them, just enough so that I was in Meg's line of view. Our eyes met and she gasped, shaking her blonde head.

"Christine, I'm sorry," And she really broke down, tears that had been sustained till then leaked. "I'm so, so sorry."

Raoul turned to me with a concerned expression, his green eyes that I'd never fully looked at before seemed so clear now despite my dizziness and his boyishly blonde hair blinded me. He reached out a hand to me but I recoiled away as if his touch burned.

His eyes gave away his hurt but I was lost to myself. All that ran through my head was the knowledge that he didn't understand. Those clear green eyes had looked at me as if I were some small animal that needed to be rescued but I didn't need rescuing! He had never heard it, didn't know of what the power of that voice could do to a person.

The voice, it surely would comfort me in this time of need! I stepped away from them, in the far corner of my mind I heard Meg's sobs and Raoul's soft whisper of my name but that didn't matter.

I ran. I ran faster then I had ever run in my entire time of living. Even when dad had died had I never felt the need to run away from everything but now I did.

Soon after my race against everything began, I heard footfalls behind me and I knew it was Raoul. Running blindly I ran off school grounds, across deserted streets. Eventually I ducked into an alley thinking it would make Raoul lose trace of me.

I soon was brushing past branches and bushes. The thick foliage scratched at the material of my jeans. I fell down to the ground that was so familiar that it was comforting, as if welcoming back an old friend.

I cried. For how long I don't know, I just needed to cry. How could she do that? The one thing I had asked her not to do, the one place I believed was just for me, the one place that I heard the voice from and she had gone and told Raoul of all people!

Lost in my tears I almost missed the soft lilting melody of the voice I had become so addicted to. Raising my tear stained face I smiled lightly. I could always depend on the voice of the angel that watched over my glade.

As I listened to the song I felt myself slowly fall to the ground again. It was so hypnotizing that I couldn't help but gently close my eyes. I smiled against the grass and fell into unconsciousness.

The last thing I remember were strong arms that felt cold to the touch wrapping themselves around me and Raoul's distant desperate calls of my name.

"Christine!"

* * *

I tossed and turned, mumbling slightly before waking to find myself in a room I didn't recognize, in a bed I had never slept in before. Fear overtook me as I tried to think of what the last thing I could remember was.

It came to me slowly but in parts, like a slide show with the pictures out of order. I had been crying and had felt betrayed. Raoul was running after me and I heard the voice I had heard so often before.

I blinked and jumped to my feet, glad to find that I was still dressed in the same clothes I had been wearing before. Wandering the room that was decorated with finely detailed furniture and design, I felt my heart beat rapidly under the stress as I neared one of the windows.

Looking out I felt my face drain of color. I had no idea where I was whatsoever. Lost and confused I sat back down on the bed and brought my knees to my chest. I had to be dreaming, right? I would wake up any moment to find myself still in the glade with Raoul calling my name.

I froze as the door knob turned and watched in apprehension as it opened to reveal a man so tall and foreboding, that I felt that at any moment I would faint. I couldn't see his face since he kept his head down and I waited for something, anything to happen. I read the newspapers; I knew what happened to girls my age who were kidnapped.

But he didn't approach me, instead he moved to a chair nearby and I let my eyes follow him. We stayed in silence for a while and I could feel the sweat begin to form on my brow.

"Just get it over with already!" I yelled terror edging my voice. The man, my captor, finally looked up at me and I gasped in fear. His face was covered entirely with a mask of white porcelain and only his lips and eyes were exposed. I stared at those eyes that seemed to glow in the darkness of the room.

"Get what over with, pray tell?" My whole body shivered at the sound of his voice and I drew away from him. It wasn't that it was terrible to listen to, no his voice was beautiful and what frightened me even more was that it was familiar.

"You know," I muttered dumbly. If I could see his eyebrow I would've guessed it had risen at that comment.

"No, I'm sorry, my dear, but I have no idea what you are talking about." I gulped. I didn't like what he called me, it sounded so strange coming fromthose lips, that I noticed were slightly malformed,and caused the hairs on my skin to rise.

"Well," I felt stupid to have to explain this. "Don't most kidnappers rape-" I was cut off as he suddenly stood from his chair, knocking it back by the force, and I backed even farther away, my head hitting the headboard.

He was at my side in a second and those glowing eyes stared at me intently. Bringing a hand, engulfed by a black leather glove, close to my cheek he caressed the air just around it.

"Know this, I will never harm you," I felt myself tremble at the close proximity of him and nodded. I stared at the mask before my face and fainted dead away.

When I came to my kidnapper was gone, I took this time to investigate the room I was in. As I had already noticed the room was decorated in furniture to well made to ever be sold in stores and there were two doors. One I soon found out led to a bathroom and the other I guessed led to the rest of the building. That door was locked.

Walking around, I ran my fingers over the wood of the necessities needed in a bedroom. When I came to the vanity that seemed aged with time I took a seat and picked up the brush that lay there.

I took in my reflection; to say I looked horrible was an understatement. My ebony hair was littered with blades of grass from when I had fallen asleep in the glade and my skin was deathly pale. Bringing my fingers to the mirror I ran them over the reflection's eyes, closing the reality as I did so.

I felt the tears before they came and laid my head on the smooth surface of the table. The predicted tears did come and I let them fall.

What was going to happen to me? What did this masked man want from me? What about my friends? Why me?

That last question repeated itself so many times in my mind that I began to hate the two words. I don't know how long I stayed like that but eventually I heard the click of the lock and the strange masked man entered once more.

I left my head laid on the table's surface, I didn't have the strength to move, and I still wanted to believe this was all a wild dream. Seeing him again I realized that he looked the perfect gentleman, in a black suit and a white dress shirt. His hair was combed neatly back and it would seem absurd to see any hair out of place.

Whether he was ignoring my scrutiny or not, he didn't show it, instead he moved gracefully and almost cat-like to stand behind me, not making a sound. As he stood there I half expected him to place his hands on my shoulders but he did not.

"What is your name?" I finally spoke barely above a whisper but I knew my captor would hear me.

"That is of no consequence," He replied in his cold and indifferent manner that I guessed I should soon become accustom to.

"Then what should I call you? I mean I just can't keep going on calling you my captor in my head now can I?" I couldn't help my curiosity.

"I have been called many things over the years; the most popular seems to be 'ghost'." I shivered at the idea that he had been called 'many' things over the years, it made me wonder even more about this mysterious enigma before me.

"So you want me to call you Ghost is that it?" He shook his head and I could tell from his eyes that he was amused at this little game.

"No, that doesn't sound proper," I rolled my eyes. You always heard of kidnappings taking place but I wondered how many of those kidnappers had been proper gentlemen.

"Then what, the Phantom?" I could see his lips curl at the mention and I suddenly felt cold.

"Why not, it adds a new twist to the name the ghost doesn't it, my dear?" Again he used that endearment towards me, and again I felt myself restraining from flinching.

"I guess so," I mumbled and was rewarded with a laugh that seemed to me exactly how a real phantom would sound like. The room was silent again after that; surprisingly it was me who spoke again.

"What do you want from me Phantom?"


	5. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I do not own any of this!

* * *

**The Glade**

_Chapter 4:_

My question lingered in the air and I couldn't help but lift my head slightly only to see his reflection in the mirror and those penetrating eyes from behind the cold mask. He did have a reason right? The Phantom, as he wanted me to call him, had to have had a reason to have taken me away from everything I knew.

He moved away from my chair and towards the door and only then did he turn to me.

"I expect you will find the answer to that question yourself at some point or another." He left, and I never heard the mocking click of the lock. Staring at the empty space he made left me feeling confused and I didn't like it.

Standing I moved to the comfort of the bed and tucked myself in. I laid my head down on the soft pillow and just thought.

I wondered about how Meg and Raoul were, what must have been going through their minds. Vague pictures came to me. Raoul was running after me as I ran from him. The glade, thatwas why I was running, Meg had told Raoul about the glade. Me running, silently praying that I could escape it all. That voice, the one that belonged to an angel, had been singing to me once more and then Raoul's desperate calls of my name.

I paused, something was missing. At some point between all those events the Phantom had to have taken me but when? I searched my mind but nothing came. I pushed myself up away from the pillow and drops of water fell to the coverlet. I was crying again.

Seeing the stains of my tears of the blanket made me fall back down to the comfort of the pillow.

"Dad…" It was the first time I had uttered the word since I had explained to Raoul how he knew me. Why had I not thought of you since? I knew why but I didn't want to admit it but I had to.

I had gotten so caught up in the idea of an angel singing to me, I had after all always loved fantasy. But now as I lay there all alone I couldn't think of anything else but him.

He had always been there for me and how easily I had forgotten him. Perhaps if I had thought about him more and not the voice I wouldn't have been in this situation. But what did it matter? What did the voice have to do with my predicament? It was this Phantom that had kidnapped me, not the voice. The voice, to my understanding didn't even have a shape or form at least not on this earth.

I fell asleep with that inner debate but some how I knew I was in denial about it all. After all hadn't his voice seemed familiar?

I woke up starving. Maybe it was because I hadn't eaten since lunch; actually I knew it was because of that. The only problem I faced now was how to get some food. For now I didn't want to have to get out of this bed unless I absolutely had to, the farther the space between the Phantom and I, the better.

Luckily, or unluckily however you look at it, my problem was solved as the door opened with that same click I was getting used to and in walked the Phantom himself carrying a tray of what appeared to be an omelet, which I'll admit looked very good.

It seemed to me that he wore exactly the same thing he had worn the last time I had seen him and one look out the window proved to me that it was morning so that meant he hadn't changed. I didn't know what to think of that just yet.

He didn't say everything, which unnerved me, but he did stay. I looked at him curiously wondering why he wasn't leaving or at least putting the tray of food down so I could eat it. Unfazed by my stare he kept his eyes on me for so long that I had to look away. While my stare was away from him he placed the tray down over my lap causing me to jump in surprise.

Looking back at him I noted the corner of his lips were turned up in a smirk and that even without making a sound he was laughing at me. I lifted my chin ever so lightly begging myself not to blush and instead turned to the food that seemed to be calling me.

Staring at the food now I began to doubt whether or not I should eat it. Maybe that was why he stayed to make sure I did eat it, that maybe there was some sort of narcotic in it and I'd be knocked out for god knows how long.

His words from the previous night came haunting back to me though.

"_Know this, I will never harm you,"_

Trusting those words I took a hold of my fork and knife and ate some of omelet.

It was delicious! I had never tasted a better omelet then the one I had in my mouth now. Forgetting about the other person in the room momentarily I devoured the rest of my breakfast. I heard a deep chuckle emit from beside me and this time I did blush.

"That wasn't so hard now was it, my dear?" He asked. I swallowed the chunk of egg in my mouth and turned on him.

"Stop calling me that!" I blurted out before I could stop myself. He didn't move, not even an inch, he was like a cold statue made of stone.

"What do you prefer I call you then?" He asked his voice cold and I was hit with the irony that my own questioning from the night beforewas being bounced back to me.

"I don't know, you think of something," I took another bite of the omelet as if it would give me courage. "And while you're at it I would like to know your name as well." I finished lamely, not wanting to see his reaction I concentrated solely on my eggs.

"I quite like the name Phantom though so I'd prefer that you continue calling me that for now," His last word gave me an inkling of a hope that I would eventually come to know his name. "As for what I should call you, why don't I just say Christine?"

The way he said my name so intently, how it seemed to just roll off the tip of his tongue made me shiver and wish I had a sweater on.

"I changed my mind." I breathed trying to get the feeling out of my mind and body, I looked down forlornly at my omelet; it didn't look as appetizing anymore.

"Very well then," Then he took the tray away from me as if he knew I wasn't going to take another bite.

* * *

I stood standing before the door I knew not to be locked. Several hours had passed since breakfast and I was becoming restless. Because of that I had begun an inner battle about whether or not to leave the sanctuary of my room. 

So here I was; I could feel my breath rushing out of my lungs as if it wanted to escape me and never return. Everything outside of this room seemed eerily quiet that it drove me crazy to know what was happening out there. Like most of my time lately, it was spent asking questions that exiting the four walls around me would answer.

What was he doing? Was the place as extravagant as this room seemed? Were amongst the many questions that raced through my mind as I contemplated whether or not I should even open the door.

"It's just a door. Whatever is outside the door can't hurt you, Christine." I whispered aloud so I could hear what I was saying even if I didn't believe it. Reaching a hand forward I gripped the cool metal knob and slowly twisted it, half hoping to find it locked but I knew it wasn't. I was sort of disappointed anyway.

The door was open a bit now and I could see light filtering in through the opening. I had gotten this far, now all I had to do was open it the rest of the way.

I breathed in and out. The last time I had felt this scared was when I had watched my dad being lowered into the ground.

With a power I didn't know I possessed, I flung my arm out and it hit the door forcefully causing it to swing on it hinges.

"Wow." That was the only thing I could say as I looked upon my surroundings. The room was surprisingly simple but yet detailed to the very last thread of the exotic rug covering the wooden floor. The room was bare of many items that usually were in a foyer and was lighted by only a single chandelier but it seemed perfect nonetheless.

What was there though was a simple mahogany table with a bouquet of red roses situated on it in the center. Besides the table there were a couple of chairs placed conveniently by bookshelves filled to the brim with books, which seemed to be almost older then I was; a fireplace, and a coat hanger with a two coats and afedora resting on it, one of the coats I noticed was my own and the other along with the hat were black, near a wide wooden door I assumed to be the exit.

My heart jumped at the sight of that door and my feet carried me over to it but as I did I passed another door so plain that I almost missed it, but from within that room I heard something.

Edging away from the exit I centered in on that entryway stopping just before it. I was certain now that what I was hearing was music, beautiful piano music. I eyed the doorknob that just screamed to be opened but what would I do once inside?

I didn't know how but I knew it was the Phantom playing the haunting music from within the room and hadn't I earlier said the farther distance between us the better, and for all I knew he might not have liked to be interrupted.

All that reasoning was thrown out the door as before I knew it I was standing in the doorway.

I was right, the music was coming from a piano and it was the Phantom playing it.

I watched from that spot as his fingers daftly floated across the ivory keys as if they had been doing so their entire life and I didn't doubt that from being the truth. The Phantom seemed at ease while he played, as if it were his only solace in the world.

One step into the room and already I felt as if I were intruding on some sort of sacred ground but I continued. Moving to the only chair in the entire room I seated myself and just watched him.

The music entranced me and even more so was how deeply he was into playing. He was highly unaware of nothing around him, a dead give away of this was the way his hair, always seemingly perfect, was mussed beyond control.

I felt grateful in a way for his diligence to his music as it gave me time I had never had before to study my captor, this phantom or ghost. But I didn't have long as the song he played came to an abrupt halt.

Time seemed to freeze and I knew he knew I was there.

His hands, spider-like, scattered to and fro grabbing this paper and that seemingly organizing them all in the rush. All the while I sat stunned watching this until he finally turned to me so quickly I yelped, my hands flying to my mouth.

"Hello, my dear." His voice didn't betray any sort of exhaustion after that effort and I envied him for it.

"Hi," I squeaked in return. I quickly was brought back to reality and I really wanted to be back in my room. I was alone with him in a room I nownoticed had no windows, all that was in there was the piano he played and the chair I sat in.

"Did you enjoy the performance?" He asked with a sneer and I felt as if he were angry with me for trespassing.

"It was beautiful, Phantom." My voice rang throughout the room for what seemed like eternity. He grunted and turned back to the piano with a heave of his shoulders.

"Of course you would think the music is beautiful, my dear." I felt my face heat up.

"What's that suppose to mean?" My previous fear was abandoned for anger, he shrugged.

"Nothing really, you know music well enough to know when it is considered beautiful or not," He said nonchalantly. Confused as I was I kept pushing.

"It didn't sound like you liked my compliment though! Didn't you think it was beautiful?" I asked, I couldn't help but wait with baited breath for his response.

"Believe me when I say I enjoyed the compliment coming from you immensely, and as to whether or not I found the music beautiful? It was dull, I could've done better." My eyes widened, dull! He had thought that the music was dull. Here I was lost in his mesmerizing music and he found it dull, I wondered though if that was dull what did his best sound like?

At a loss for words I sat in the lone chair just trying to comprehend what it was he was saying. I never heard him get up until he opened the plain door that led to the magnificent foyer.

"It's nearing evening; I'm assuming you'd like something to eat?" I nodded meekly but stayed rooted to the chair. Tilting my head to the side I looked at him, his body seemed to tense under the stare.

"Will you play again some time?" I asked quietly. All the tension in his lean body relaxed and for a moment the indifference in his eyes faded.

"Perhaps later but for now you should eat," I nodded again and stood to follow him out the door. His arm reached out and closed the door as I left the threshold, closing with it the melody I had heard.


	6. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I do not own anything!

* * *

**The Glade**

_Chapter 5:_

The Phantom had kept his word and for the next few days things had fallen into a sort of routine. I would wake in the morning, sometimes take a shower and then, and I had discovered this early on, I would choose an outfit from the array that had awaited me in the wardrobe. Once I was dressed for the day I would then enter the foyer and have breakfast while I sat in one of the chairs surrounded by books. At this time the Phantom would come join me after he handed me my food but he never ate himself. When I asked him about this he always said the same thing.

"I've already ate,"

I doubted this was true but I was content with the answer. After breakfast was over there was usually a few awkward hours where he would read and I would just sit on in my chair eyeing the room with fascination.

I had been trapped in his home for days now and yet the main foyer still ceased to amaze me. I liked to think that everyday I found something new about it.

After that and this was where we currently were in the schedule, he would lead me into the music room and play for me.

I sat transfixed as I listened to the notes fill the air. As I listened to him play, it seemed to give new meaning to the word music. I would even dare to say he was better then any great composer of any past decade, and that thought often made me wonder why he wasn't.

I noticed that when he played he often lost himself to the music, just as I had lost myself to that voice. I'll admit, that despite this odd calm we had come to over just a few days I was still scared of him. Scared of what his reasoning behind kidnapping me was? Why he wore that mask… perhaps I wasn't so much as scared as the mask but instead curious about it.

Why did he where it? I often found myself wondering.

The music slowly came to a halt and I found my hands were about to start applauding, and I was afraid that if I opened my mouth I would ask for more. Instead I just folded my hands into my lap and stayed silent. Apparently my mind had other ideas.

"Why me?" My voice came out rushed. He turned on the piano bench to look at me, those eyes of his looking right at me.

"What do you mean?" He responded and I could tell from the look in his eyes that he knew what I meant, I sighed.

"Why kidnap me? I mean I'm nothing spectacular, no real talents or skill. I guess I'm at least nice to look at but nothing out of the ordinary," I blushed as I said that. "I have no family, no fortune, so you can't expect to get any ransom." I paused to catch my breath before finishing my rant. "Really the only thing I do have is two friends," I couldn't help but think rather one friend and one maybe-something-more companion. "So I ask again, Phantom, why me?"

He didn't answer me right away and I really hadn't expected anything less. In fact I didn't even expect him to answer me. He hadn't answered me when I asked what he wanted from me, so why was the why any different.

Eventually he stood up and walked to one of the many bookcases, his back was to me.

"Do you really see yourself as so meaningless, my dear?" He asked his voice so indifferent that I really couldn't tell what he meant by it or even if it was a question at all. But despite this his words struck a chord within me.

Perhaps I did believe my existence was meaningless, or at least it became so after my dad died. Before then he had been my reason for living and without him I was nothing.

"Yes." His shoulders hunched closer to the bookcase as if wounded. At that moment I really would have liked to know what was going through his mind. Straightening himself he faced me and I withdrew a little from him as he looked at me so coldly.

"Has anyone ever told you, you have a terrible self-image of yourself?" I looked at him wide eyed; his lips were curled up in a sinister smile. His cold demeanor was still hovering in the air and yet he had, in his own unique way, made fun of me. I couldn't help myself, I laughed.

"Yes actually, I have been told that many times." I replied still laughing. He turned away from me again and moved back to the bench. After sitting down he glanced back at me, I could still see that slight smile on his lips.

"Come here?" I stopped laughing at his command disguised as a question.

Rising to my feet I moved to the piano and stood beside him. I had never yet been this close to the instrument that helped in the creation of his heavenly music and while he studied me, I studied the piano. It was very old, that I could tell just by looking at it, but well kept, I could just imagine the Phantom tuning it whenever a single note sounded the tiniest bit off-key.

Turning away from the object I looked at the man, who quickly looked away from me. Suddenly nervous I brushed back a strand of my dark hair just so I had something to do.

"You sing, am I correct?" I nodded dumbly, wondering where he was going with this. His spider hands reached out and pressed down on a key, C. Again I wondered where he was going with this and then it hit me as the note rang through the room again.

Cautiously I opened my mouth and out came the note in my soprano voice. It came out well despite the lack of practice it had gone through or at least I thought it had come out well. The Phantom stopped playing and rose, moving towards me he cupped my chin, or at least it felt like he did when in reality he stopped mere inches from meeting skin. Lifting my chin up his hands barely grazed my throat.

He pointed out the faults in my voice but I didn't hear a word of what he said though I knew I'd correct my mistakes anyways. All I could do was stand there, looking up at his masked face which seemed to loom above me due to his tall frame.

Once he was pleased with the note we moved up the scale. At some point his words became clear to me again and I took his instruction to heart but still through the entire process I couldn't help but continue to stare up at that masked face.

I think I was becoming more and more curious about that mask and what lay under it. I wanted to see the face of my captor and now teacher.

* * *

A loud clang filled the room as his hands came smashing down onto the keys and I withdrew into myself. It was yet another one of our lessons and I had of lately been making a lot of mistakes. 'Bad' mistake on my part. 

"You are not focused." He managed to spit out between gritted teeth. I had the urge to put my hands on my hips but stopped myself before I could. Of course I was not focusing well! Anyone wouldn't focus well if all they did was scales for the past couple of days! Up and down, up and down. It was endless and I was restless. Containing what little anger I possessed I breathed in and out.

"I don't feel well that's all," I muttered sounding more like a two year old then the eighteen year old I was; though my entire bratty attitude dissolved when I saw the honest concern that crossed his, well, eyes. Turning on the bench he reached out and I gasped when I vaguely felt a cold hand on my forehead.

"You have no fever, and I've told you time and time again that if your throat ever pains you to tell me…" His worry touched mebut before he worried too much I had to explain myself.

"It's not that I don't 'feel' well," I began unaware of the quick disappearance of that worry which made me feel guilty. "I'm sick of this house!" At his frown I continued. "Well not literally, I need to get outside. Breathe in some fresh air, I have cabin fever or something." I looked anywhere but at him. How foolish did I sound to him? I wondered briefly. My question was answered as I heard him chuckle and I felt myself go red. His laugh! How stupid it made me feel when it was directed 'at' me and not 'with' me.

"Well then, I was planning to save this as a surprise for lunch, but then again it'll do well now I suppose." My head tilted to the side on its own accord and I followed him with my eyes as he left me alone in the music room. His absence made the large room so daunting and in a way scary, I wished he would come back soon. My wish was granted as he returned with what appeared to be a basket hanging from his arm. I stared incredulously at it seeing as it was the last thing I'd ever expect to see him with.

"We're going on a picnic?" I asked still dumbfounded. That laugh again filled the air.

"It would seem so, my dear." He responded, and in his own twisted way it sounded as if he looked forward to this, way of out of character, outing.

"Outside, outside?" Now he was just plain laughing at me! That voice which often scared or confused me with it's haunting magnificence was now laughing at me, warmly though still sounding cold and dangerous. In conclusion it was just plain weird.

Once the idea registered in my mind, I found myself actually maybe looking forward to it. After all I had wanted to go outside hadn't I?

So I was ushered out of the music room and into the foyer where the Phantom helped me into my jacket. I stood back and watched as he himself pulled on a black coat, which in a way looked more like a cloak then a jacket, and placed a well used fedora a top his head.

I seemed semi-forgotten for the moment and waited patiently at the front door assuming that was to be our exit. I couldn't help but be reminded of the gentleman I had thought the Phantom to be on our first meeting, and after watching him now the idea was embedded in my head.

When it seemed like he was ready to go he walked over to the small table with the rose filled vase resting on it and opened a compartment I hadn't noticed before. What he pulled out was a long black fabric which seemed to me that it had no great importance that is until he approached me with it outstretched in his hands and then I realized what the fabric was for.

I couldn't help the fear that crept up me at the idea that he was about to blindfold me and my face must have paled upon realization because it seemed to pain him to do what he was about to do.

"I'm sorry but it is just for precaution." He whispered sadness interlaced into his voice. I stared at the blindfold as it covered my eyes and I felt his hands draw my hair aside. As he stood behind me tying the blindfold on me, I couldn't help but think the strangest thing. I thought about how often he would have to tie something on so as to hide something else from theview of the world, he probably did have to tie the mask on every day wouldn't he?

When I felt his hands leave the back of my head I sighed but I knew inside the terror was not over.

"Phantom?" I called out. "I'm scared of the dark," I heard him shift on the spot. "I've always been scared, it's silly…" With the loss of my sense of sight all other sense seemed to expand and it was with that that I faintly could tell of the grip on my arms despite the fact that they weren't really gripping my arms but the air around them.

"I'll lead you then, my dear," His voice rang once again hauntingly beautiful in my ear. I nodded and cautiously took a step forward my hands stretched out before me. I could hear the sweep of his coat as he stepped ahead of me to unlock the front entrance. When the door was open I was lead by that light grip again only to be stopped after a long and winding path had been taken. Then he left my side for how long I don't know seeing howeverything seemed like it was taking hours while I had this blindfold on.

Eventually I heard his footsteps again and the sound of a car door opening followed soon after. Blindingly putting the seatbelt on I waited for him to get in and start the engine. I didn't have to wait long and soon we were driving away from the house I had been a captive in for some time now.

The car ride was unsurprisingly silent and was equally as unsurprising as rich classical music filled the air. I looked away from the driver's seat so as to hide the small smile that was forming on my lips.

When the car came to a stop the familiar sounds of the car door opening, his footsteps, and then my own door opening filled my senses. Then wasting no time he began to lead me into a forest, and I could tell it was a forest due to the soft ground we walked on.

Finally we came to where I could only guess was our destination and I could hear the Phantom move to take off the blindfold. It came off quickly and I was left to see the setting of our unique picnic.

We were defiantly in a forest, a densely populated one at that. Everywhere you looked was another tree except for in the dead center where I could spot a clearing. Walking towards it I soon found myself in a spot conveniently just big enough for a picnic. To the side of the small clearing was a pond which was attached to a stream and a steady supply of common fish swam about. Cattails surrounded the edge of the pond as well but what really drew my attention were the roses.

Opposite the pond was a small rose garden, some of the flowers were still in bloom even though their season was soon coming to an end. As I looked at the roses I couldn't help but think they looked familiar for some reason. Then the vase on the table flashed through my mind and I remembered how everyday it seemed the roses in the vase never aged. Once the time spent between breakfast and singing lesson I had dedicated to trying to figure out the mystery to the eternal roses and now the answer lay before me.

The Phantom was at my side as I bent down to get a closer look at the roses and then I was aware of his disappearance. Looking up I noticed that he was really gone! Trying not to panic, I did what any sensible person would do. I prepared the picnic.

Pulling the basket to where I stood I opened it and took the square plaid blanket out and with one swift movement it floated down to the ground. By this time I began to hear footsteps again and I glanced over my shoulder to see who it was.

"Why did you leave me alone?" I asked angrily though I wasn't entirely all upset. He didn't answer me which just proved to make my frustration grow.

With one step he closed the distance and with his hand he gently put something in my hair. I stared at him and then reached my hand up to see what it was. I felt flower petals and when I brought my hand down so did one of the petals. It took it's time floating down but eventually I saw that it was white.

"The White Rose and the Nightingale," He murmured and even straining to hear I could barely hear him. With a small shake of his head the Phantom turned to the blanket already laid out. Figuring that he wanted to begin eating I sat down and awkwardly let myself get comfortable.

It didn't fly past me completely that what with the intimate surroundings and the whole picnic thing that this was like a date. What made it worse or not was the little fact that it was in a way my first date. I also couldn't ignore the idea that the Phantom ,despite not quite acting like it, was probably around the same age as my dad had been.

But those things aside I planned to enjoy myself, knowing that everything he did was for me.

The meal started simple enough, a salad. Followed soon after by sandwiches, of all things, and then it dawned on me.

"You're eating!" And I pointed at the Phantom's sandwich as if it was about to do a little dance. The look that met my statement was blank, quite like he couldn't decide how to react to that.

"I do have to eat, my dear," He stated in a matter of fact tone. I nodded still confused.

"I know, but I've never seen you eat before." He chuckled and this time I didn't get that scared, confused feeling. He was just laughing at my naiveté this time around.

"I have a small appetite that's why you often don't see me eat but it is there, occasionally."

After that we actually managed to have a civil conversation, and it really felt as if the circumstances were normal even though they weren't.

But of course I had to go and ruin it… in a way.

"What's your name?" I asked suddenly after the meal was done. I sat staring up at the stars out of the opening in the trees, when I didn't receive an answer right away my eyes darted to where the Phantom sat. He seemed to heave a sigh of frustration but I finally got an answer to my question again, in a way.

"It doesn't matter," It was the same answer I always got out of him but this time I was oddly determined to find out the truth.

"Then at least can you tell me why your name doesn't matter, Phantom?" I asked with an edge of the frustration that he must alsohave been experiencing. He turned to me and with that action the moonlit lit up the white mask on his face causing me to have to catch my breath.

"Would you care about such a trivial thing, such as a name, if your own mother hadn't caredif you received one or not?" What kind of life had he leaded? I couldn't help but wonder.

"She sounds like a terrible person," I finally said to him and was rewarded with a shrug.

"It wasn't as if she was a terrible person, my dear; just that she was in a terrible situation." He paused thoughtfully and I could begin to see the glimmer of a smirk playing on his lips,

"Besides," He began amicably, "I like out little nicknames for one another, don't you?"

* * *

Authors Note: So for anyone that has seen the 1990 TV mini series I'll let you know that the picnic was taken from that version and I guess in a way so was the forest minus the creepy stuffed animals. Also if you've seen the mini-series then you know that that scene was the unmasking scene. There actually was a slight inner battle whether or not to have the unmasking happen like that but in the movie Christine was able to make Erik believe she loved him and that she would love him no matter what was under the mask and I felt my Christine wouldn't be able to do that just yet (Added proof to that is that she still believes her 'angel' and the Phantom are two separate entities). 

On another note I finished reading Susan Kay's Phantom a couple weeks ago and simply loved it! I especially loved the ending and how in a way Erik's and Christine's love prevailed (in my opinion) but I won't go any further into detail about it. I'll just finish with saying that it was really, really good!


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